“Save the torture for round two,” I moan, arching into his touch.
“Why would I do that?”
When my lids lift again, I find him grinning down at me with a hellish glint in his eyes.
“Because if you’re not inside me in the next five seconds, I may actually die. I’d prefer to not have that happen after waiting this long to be with you again.”
His grin only grows as he releases my cock in favor of his own. Of course, in true Camden fashion, he swipes the head up and down my crease, continuing his teasing while coating me with the cool lube.
“Still as demanding as ever, aren’t you, Little Reed?” he asks, a knowing smirk resting on his handsome face when he finally positions himself against my hole.
I arch a brow at his taunt, and rather than answering, I wrap my legs around his hips again and pull him in, effectively impaling myself on his shaft. Both of us let out a low moan as he tunnels in farther, not stopping until he’s sheathed to the hilt.
I’m damn near delirious with how fucking good it feels, being joined like this. And not just from the sexual aspect—though I can’t deny just how much I’ve missed being claimed and possessed by him. But for it to be with so much love, I could drown in it? That’s just icing on the cake.
“Shit, you’re so tight,” he hisses, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’m gonna la—”
“Round two” is all I say again on a tortured exhale.
Thankfully he gets the message and starts sliding in and out with long, slow thrusts. Every swipe his crown makes over my prostate sends bolts of lightning down my spine, emphasized every time his pelvis collides with my ass. Soft moans fall from my lips as he continues burying himself as deep as he can, never once faltering in his steady rhythm, and my back arches off the counter with the need for more.
“God, baby. You feel so fucking good.”
“So do you, Lo. Shit.” Cam lets out a half-laugh, half-hum as he shakes his head. “It’s pathetic how close I am already.”
“Mmm, but when you come, that just means I can have myturn inside you.”
His eyes heat, clearly very fond of the idea, before both hands find my hips again, and he starts dragging me onto his cock while simultaneously thrusting into me. I let out a little yelp of pleasure, seeing stars behind my eyes from the added depth and intensity. The noises falling from my lips only get louder as his pace picks up, pistoning into me like it might be the last thing he ever does; the quick, confident strokes pushing us both toward impending bliss.
Soon enough, those deliciously addictive pants and whimpers fall from his lips too, sending more zaps of pleasure to my leaking cock.
“Goddamnit, Lo. So close. Need you there with me.”
Little does he realize, I already am. Everything about him is unraveling me at the seams, and that’s before a palm fists around my cock again, jacking me from root to tip. His movements become more frantic—frenzied, even—while the other hand on my hip tightens, gripping me at a bruising level. But I don’t care. His touch is what’s keeping me tethered to Earth right now, and the only thing capable of sending me to the stratosphere.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant, my eyes falling closed as I give myself over to pleasure.
“Yes, Lo. Come.”
My hands grapple against the smooth stone, needing something to hold on to while he pounds into me with reckless abandon, before finding the edge above my head. But even clawing at the granite for dear life isn’t enough to stop me from catapulting off into freefall from the dual sensation of his hand shuttling up and down my length while his cock pegs my prostate.
I come on a guttural moan, my back arching from the euphoria as my release slams into me like a Mack truck. Hot,white ropes of cum spill from my cock while Cam strokes me through my orgasm, keeping his thrusts at a quick and brutal pace. That button inside me may as well be on fire every time his head swipes over it, drawing out the pleasure until it nearly borders on pain, leaving a chain of expletives to fall from my lips.
My ass constricts around his shaft, causing his rhythm to falter, but it must be enough to have him following me over the edge into bliss. He curses softly as his hips stutter, his hand leaving my cock to grab my waist while he buries himself deep inside me and stills. And it’s in that second—when I feel the warmth of his release filling me—I realize what the jersey fascination is. Because he may have claimed me countless times before—be it with his cum, his lips, his teeth—but to have his name on my body while it happens? A name I want to take as my own someday?
It’s a whole different level of possession.
“Oh my God,” he whispers. “That was…”
Yeah. That was.
A soft, disbelieving little huff of laughter falls from his lips as he slowly pulls from my body and slides my ass back onto the countertop. My legs dangle off the edge as I catch my breath, feeling like my limbs are made of Jell-O. But ever the caretaker, Cam steps away for a brief second to grab some paper towels, only to return and wipe the cum from my stomach.
I sit up once he’s done and peel the jersey over my head, far too sweaty to be wearing clothes now, even if it was his request for me to keep it on.
For a second, we just stare at each other, breathing in the same air. A dopey, sated smile crosses his lips, one that I’m certain matches the one I’m wearing. But as high as I am from that orgasm, and even with the buckets of cum he just wiped off my stomach, I’m already hard again. Or rather, I’mstillhard.
“So, how soon for round two?” I ask, panting.
